As we watched George, the child kept bringing food from the kitchen--chips, bag of granola, gummy bears, so on and so forth. I gave her a little granola and then hid the bag in the couch. I hid the rest of the food in the couch too.
Soon the dog realized the couch was full of food and then I had a different problem indeed, fending off a huge, overly-interested puppy.
Nope, Edamame. The dog apparently bit a lot of them, but spit them back out again. Whee.
Then this--my friend Laurie brought me this from England many years ago. Or Ireland maybe. Anyway, it's pretty sturdy, and the grand kids like it.
Except this wild grandchild ripped the whole thatched roof off like a wig! Tore it right off!
I glued it back on. We persevered.
It was fun. She's lively and sassy and turned up at one point without pants. I asked her where her pants went and she looked at her legs like, "Who knows?" I asked her if they just popped off, or what? She shrugged.
Later tonight the dog came carrying them from the family room. At least they're found now.
And this, from the end of the day:
And that's the end of a beautiful Friday in late March.
Love you wild baby, Grandma